


Coming Home for Christmas

by BelaBoo



Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:38:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelaBoo/pseuds/BelaBoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been five years since Claudia last saw her family, and she's coming home for Christmas full of apprehension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cbomb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cbomb/gifts).



I fidget in my seat, mentally kicking myself for not going to the bathroom back at JFK Airport. I r _eally_ need to pee, but I picked a window seat upon check-in. Rookie mistake. Now the two guys next to me are fast asleep. One is snoring, and the other is drooling - charming.

I sigh, and check my watch. Thirty minutes before landing in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. I can hold on. I’m on the last leg of my journey now, having flown in from London earlier today. I’ve been living in London since I was 23 - so five years now - and every year I’ve managed to avoid coming home, claiming that I can’t afford it. And then adding ‘no, Mom, Dad, I couldn’t possibly let you pay for my ticket, I need to learn to be responsible for myself.’ This year, though, that excuse wouldn’t fly. My shop had had an extremely successful year. And my sister Janine and her husband Stephen recently had a baby boy, Liam, so Mom had put her foot down.

‘You’re coming home for Christmas, Claudia. The family should be together. Three generations, can you believe it? Christmas is always extra special with a new baby.’

I sigh again, gazing out the window. We’re passing over a town, and I wonder what the people down there are doing as they run around getting ready for Christmas, whether they too are racing home to see families that they aren’t particularly excited to see. I know you’re supposed to love your family, but mine are a whole lot easier to love from a distance, and I really don’t feel like having my life choices questioned for the whole two weeks, just like they were for the first 23 years of my life, until I found myself leaving on a jet plane.

‘But I guess now I’m coming back again’, I sing softly. Mom and Dad had been less than impressed when I’d left, off to study at art school. I’d lasted two whole months before deciding it wasn’t for me, and taken up jewellery making again, selling it at the local market while working at the supermarket to pay the rent. I’d taught myself to sew and began selling my dresses as well, and after a few years I’d opened up a real, physical, shop where I sold my creations and other nick nacks. I felt successful in London, but coming home - I was sure that once again I would be nothing compared to Janine, who worked in IT, had married an equally intelligent and financially successful man, and had now produced a grandchild for our parents.

It really didn’t help that I’d recently ended a three year relationship with Jason, dashing my mother’s hopes that I, too, would settle down soon.

Good thing I hadn’t told her we had been engaged.

 

 

‘Claudia!’

My Dad’s voice. I look around me, blinking, as I walk through the airport gate and out into the waiting area. Some of my fellow passengers are embracing those waiting for them, while others are heading directly for the baggage claim. For the briefest of moments I wish I was among them, and then I see it. It’s a big white piece of paper with multi-coloured letters painted on, ‘Welcome Home Claudia!’ I squint, noting that there are also pictures around the writing. I think they’re flowers. The sign is being held by my father at one end and an unfamiliar man at the other - Stephen, Janine’s husband, I realise. I have met him a few times before, but he’s never really stuck in my head. My sister stands beside him, baby Liam in her arms. It’s Mom who comes forward and gives me a hug.

‘Claudia. Welcome home, it’s so good to see you.’

‘It’s good to see you too’, I reply automatically, returning the embrace. ‘All of you. And I love the sign.’

‘It was Stephen’s idea’, Janine says proudly, and he blushes.

‘Well, I figured you don’t return from five years away in the UK every day. The least we could do was to make you feel welcomed right away.’

‘It’s great’, I tell him. ‘And this must be Liam. Oh no, it’s okay’, I add hastily when Janine makes to hand him to me, ‘I mean, he’s sleeping. I don’t want to disturb him yet.’

For somebody who was a founding member of the Baby-Sitters Club I wasn’t so great with babies now that I was in my (late) twenties. I’d suddenly panicked, in the ‘what do I do and how do I hold a baby again?’ way. None of my friends in London had children, or maybe it was more that I didn’t make friends with people who had children. Either way, that seemed like something you did when you were in your thirties.

‘Let’s get out of here’, Dad says, never one to show too much emotion. ‘How many bags did you bring with you this time?’

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Yes, I used to be known for my hideous over-packing but that was years ago, and I felt like a different person. Was it too much for my parents to realise that? Do they even care about who I am now, or are they still mourning the fact that I was never going to be a studious teenager, an academic overachiever like Janine? Probably. ‘Just the one, and it’s pretty light. I’d normally fit two weeks of clothes into a backpack, but it’s winter so I needed to pack bulkier things. Normally when I’m travelling it’s for work and I need my bigger suitcase for my jewellery and garments.’

‘I like to travel light too’, Stephen agrees with me. ‘Fit it all in carry on if I can.’

‘Yes, but that’s mainly because you’re never on time for anything’, Janine says, ‘and if you don’t have to check bags in it gives you an extra few minutes to get to the airport.’

‘Maybe’, Stephen says sheepishly, and I laugh, liking him, and wondering how he ever found his way into our family. 

 

 

I feign tiredness when we arrive back at Mom and Dad’s.

‘You’re up in your old room, if you want to get some sleep?’ Mom offers. ‘Oh, and Mary-Anne Bruno dropped off a letter for you, it’s on the bedside table.’

‘Mary-Anne did?’

Mom nods.

That’s odd. I haven’t kept in touch with anybody from Stoneybrook, and I don’t have Facebook. I used to see some of my friends who stayed in town after high school, but I’d cut all contact when I’d moved to London.

I close the bedroom door behind me, toss my bags on the bed and pick up the envelope. It’s light pink and has my name written on it with a flourish, all very dainty. I tear it open and pull a flowery piece of paper from inside, and begin to read.

 

Dear Claudia,

Welcome home! I was so excited when your Mom said you were coming home for Christmas, because for the first time in ten years everybody from the Baby-Sitters Club is going to be in Stoneybrook. Can you believe it’s been this long?

Logan and I would love to see everybody, so we’re holding a pot luck dinner on Saturday the 21st. Come over any time from 5pm. Partners and children are welcome!

Looking forward to seeing you.

Mary-Anne.

 

I groan, and then feel guilty about thinking of my then friends in that way. Partners and children welcome, of course they are. And we had been the _Baby-Sitters Club,_ and had grown up in a small town - of course everyone would have wed and bred by now. I felt the way I had when I was held back in Seventh Grade - the rest of my friends had gone on without me. I can just imagine them now, as I lie back on my bed. Looking at me with pitying eyes, whispering to themselves, wondering what is wrong with me that I can’t have a partner, can’t have kids, can’t be like them …

 

 

I considered not going to dinner, I really did, but - Stoneybrook’s a small place. If I hadn’t gone, I would have bumped into one of the girls sooner or later, and it would have been awkward. So here I am, outside the Brunos’ place at 5.30pm, hoping everyone’s arrived already and I can make a quick exit afterwards.

I ring the bell.

Footsteps sound from within the house, growing louder until the door handle turns, and the door swings open.

‘Claudia!’

‘Mary-Anne!’ She’s allowed her hair to grow long again, but she still looks the same, only older. And she’s pregnant. Of course she is. ‘Wow, you - you look like you’re about to pop.’

She laughs, placing a hand on top of her swollen belly. ‘Oh no, I’ve still got two months to go. But you know what they say about second babies being bigger, and this is number four.’

‘You have three children?’ I ask incredulously. ‘When on earth did you find time to have three - nearly four - children? We’re only 28.’

‘Here, let me take that’, she says, taking the pasta dish I’d brought from my hands. ‘The food’s all through in the living room, come and help yourself. Well, Logan and I wanted to start a family as soon as we got married, though we were admittedly quite young. Twenty-one. We were blessed with being able to have children fairly quickly. Nicola’s six now, and Felicity is four, nearly five. Aaron’s two. They’re all running around with the other kids somewhere. And then this one is due in February.’ She rubs her belly again, in that oh so smug pregnant woman way.

‘Is four your limit, or are you looking to challenge the Pikes for most kids?’ I ask. ‘And the other kids? Does everyone have children now?’

‘Not everyone’, Mary-Anne says. ‘And we’d like to have at least one more child after this one.’

‘Fuck sake’, I breathe quietly, but I think she hears me, as she directs me into the living room with a ‘go and say hello to people!’

 

 

I bump into Kristy first, or rather, she bumps into me. Still as take charge and bossy as ever, but I’m glad she approaches me as it gives me somebody to talk to.

‘Claudia. It’s been a while.’

‘I’ve been busy’, I say, ‘the UK is a long way away.’

She shrugs. ‘Fair enough. I only live as far away as Stamford, and I don’t come home that often.’

‘Oh, Stamford? What are you doing there?’

‘I work at the council’, she says vaguely, ‘trying to work my way up, but it’s not happening as quickly as I’d like’.

‘No’, I say, because it’s apparent she wants me to say something. ‘It never does.’

‘So what are you doing with yourself?’ she asks, and I tell her about London, and my store, and Jason, before I remember that we’re not together anymore.

‘My partner’s over there’, Kristy says, pointing towards a tall woman across the other side of the room who is talking to Dawn.

‘Oh’, I say, and I’m not surprised. ‘What’s her name, how did you meet?’

‘That’s Lydia,’ Kristy says. ‘We met on the internet, would you believe. I always thought that it was only old people who were into internet dating, but it’s actually really great!’

‘Any kids?’ I ask, thinking I might as well get that question out of the way.

‘Lydia has three from a previous relationship’, Kristy says. ‘And for now, being a stepmom is enough for me.’

 

 

By the time I reach Stacey I’ve learnt that Logan now teaches PE at Stoneybrook High School. Jessi is a reporter for the Stoneybrook News and she recently became engaged to Toby, who couldn’t make it tonight. Shannon is happily married to Daniel, and works as a speechwriter for her local congressman. Daniel is a stay at home dad looking after two girls they adopted from China, Bethany and Sadie. Dawn also has two girls - twin eight year olds, Alice and Jo. She hasn’t been back to Stoneybrook for a long time either, and confesses that she spent much of her college years drinking and doing drugs, or ‘going completely off the rails’ as she put it so casually. She’d dropped out of college after she became pregnant, and has spent the past eight years raising her girls. She runs a health food shop out in California, and is currently seeing a woman named Carrie, who’s flying in to Stoneybrook tomorrow to meet Dawn’s family and spend Christmas with them.

‘Hi Stace’, I say, and it’s not awkward but we feel like strangers. It’s funny how you can be best friends with somebody for years, but when you see them later in life you don’t have much to say anymore.

‘Hi Claud’, she smiles, giving me a hug. ‘It’s great to see you. You look fabulous! Did you make the dress?’

I nod. ‘Thanks. Yeah, this is one of my creations. I’m thinking of making a few out of this pattern and seeing how it sells.’

‘You definitely should’, she says. ‘I love seeing everything you put up on you website. It’s a way I can follow what you’re doing a little bit, even if you don’t have Facebook or Twitter.’

I make a mental note to find someone to help me update my shop’s website. Jason always used to do that. ‘Well, that’s not stalkerish at all’, I try and joke, but Stacey looks hurt.

‘I just like to keep up with what an old friend’s doing because I’m proud of her, is that so bad?’

I feel terrible, and I feel two feet tall. ‘I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch. I just sort of … left.’

‘I missed you. You wouldn’t email or anything.’

She had tried to email me a few times, when I’d first left, but I’d never replied. I was too busy trying to make a new life for myself, somewhere I could be who I wanted to be, forge out a whole new identity. That old TV show says you want to go ‘where everybody knows your name’, but when I left Stoneybrook I was looking for somewhere nobody knew my name.

‘Sorry’, I say again, ‘I was just trying to find myself, and I needed to do that completely on my own.’

It’s a bullshit excuse and she knows it.

‘How are you, anyway?’ I ask, ‘I guess you know all about me from my website.’

‘All about your professional life anyway’, she says, raising an eyebrow at me and indicating that she wants to hear about my personal life. Excellent. ‘I’m an accountant, surprise surprise right? I live in New York - again, no surprise - with my partner Kesh. He’s a lawyer. Can I-’ she hesitates, ‘can I tell you a secret?’

‘Sure’, I reply.

She lowers her voice to a whisper. ‘We’re expecting our first child. Eight weeks along, so don’t tell anyone, not yet.’

‘I won’t’, I promise. ‘Oh, how exciting, congratulations!’ I hug her, which must be the right thing to do because she beams. ‘How’s it all going?’

‘I’m terrified,’ she admits, ‘but it’s all going well.’

‘Gosh,’ I say. ‘Gosh, gosh, so many children.’

‘It’s crazy isn’t it’, she says, and I feel for a moment I have my best friend back, who knows what I mean when I’m not making sense. ‘Last time we were all together we were babysitters. Now we’re all adults, and there’s husbands and partners and kids.’

‘All grown up’, I agree.

‘Mary-Anne and Abby both look like they could go into labour at any moment’, Stacey adds. ‘I’m tempted to start a betting pool.’

‘Mary-Anne said she’s still got two months to go’, I say, and Stacey nods.

‘Yeah, I think she’s telling everybody all about it.’

‘Where is Abby?’ I ask, realising with a bit of embarrassment that I’ve forgotten all about her.

Stacey nods her head in the direction of the couch, ‘over there, talking with Kesh actually. I’ll come introduce you if you like.’

‘I’d love that’, I say, but my head is pounding from the air of stifling home-life that has come over the room. I can feel it building up around me, telling me that all my success over the past few years is meaningless, I have nothing to bring to this reunion of people who have made something of their lives in the way we were all supposed to. ‘But can it wait a few minutes? I suddenly don’t feel well at all. Maybe it’s jet lag or something. I’m going to duck outside for a bit of fresh air, I’ll be back in soon.’

‘Oh of course’, she says, ‘do you want me to come with you?’

‘No, it’s freezing outside. You stay here. I’ll be back soon, I promise.’

 

 

‘Couldn’t handle it in there either?’

The tall redhead sitting on the steps doesn’t look up as I close the door behind me, but tucks a strand of long straight red hair behind her ear and takes another drag from a cigarette, savouring it before exhaling again.

‘Hi, Mallory’. I sit down beside her. ‘No thanks, I don’t smoke.’

‘Suit yourself’, she says, putting the pack she has just offered me back in her jacket pocket. ‘I don’t really, either, but it helps with the nerves sometimes.’

‘Just don’t let all the impressionable young minds running around in there see you.’

‘Fucking madhouse’, she says, and I want to agree with her. ‘You’d think I’d be used to it, growing up in the Pike clan, but my upbringing has just made me really appreciate the peace and quiet I have now. Not to mention the freedom.’

‘I take it you don’t have kids then either?’

‘Nope’, she says, taking another drag of her cigarette. ‘You and I are in the minority. Oh, Jessi doesn’t, or Stacey, but they’re married slash engaged and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.’

‘Do you keep in touch with Jessi much then?’ I ask.

‘Nah, not really. I feel bad, you know? We email maybe once, twice a year, and I see her at Christmas. Becca and Nicky are married, did you know?’ I didn’t. ‘But on the whole, I’m happy living my life now away from Stoneybrook, where I can be who I want to be.’

‘I so get you!’ I exclaim. ‘I have this great life in London, where I get to be creative and sew clothes and make jewellery and somehow that makes me a living. And all of my friends are artsy too, and they don’t care about all that stuff like business, and kids, and families.’

Mallory laughs. ‘I think that sums up 95% of the population of Stoneybrook. Everyone has a basic business profession type job, a nice house with a fence and a backyard, two to three kids. That sort of thing. I do kind of miss having a backyard, I must admit.’

‘You live in an apartment then?’

‘Uh-huh. In Toronto. On my own, and as I keep insisting to Mom and Dad, it’s fine, I enjoy my company, if I want to see people I’ll invite friends over, but at the end of the night I’ve got my own space.’

‘Wow, Canada, so you’ve gone international as well.’

‘We got out, Claudia, we got out. Here’s to us!’ she raises an imaginary glass and I raise my own to meet hers. ‘Clink!’ we say as they meet mid-air, and laugh.

‘I could do my job in Stoneybrook’, she offers, ‘which would be cheaper, but I love Toronto. It’s a great city. And I’ve got great friends there.’

‘I’m glad’, I say sincerely, ‘great friend are the best. What are you doing, anyway?’

She blushes. ‘I’m a ghostwriter. Do you know what that is? I always end up having to explain what I actually do.’

I shake my head.

‘Well, I write books but they’re published under another author’s name. The main series I write for is Cinderella Stables, a middle grade series about horses and riding. The author plans the bare bones of the story, sends it to me, and I write the book, then I get paid. Obviously I’d much rather be getting my own stuff published, but this pays the bills, and I can work on my own novels in my own time.’

‘That’s awesome’, I say sincerely. ‘Before my shop took off I worked in a supermarket to pay the bills while I worked on my jewellery. I think people care about profession too much. The way I see it, your profession’s just what you do to make money to fund doing what you actually want to do.’

‘I like that definition’, Mallory says.

‘Are your parents upset that you’re not following the Pike tradition and having heaps of kids?’ I ask. ‘I’m sure Mom and Dad will be getting impatient with me as soon as the shine wears off their first grandchild.’

Mallory shakes her head. ‘Nah. Claire helped us out with that one. She’s the only one of us who has a kid.’

‘Claire? Little sister silly billy goo goo Claire?’

‘The very same.’

‘But she’s only -’ I try to do the maths ‘-really young.’

‘She’s 20. Madisun is four.’

‘Four!’

Mallory raises an eyebrow. ‘I know, right? Teen pregnancy never used to happen back in our day! The two of them live with Mom and Dad, who had to be very involved in the parenting side of things. Claire’s still working on graduating high school, and Mom and Dad are quite content to let us live our lives however we want to, especially if we’re not going to be needing help from them.’

‘Brilliant’, I say.

The door opens behind us, and we turn around.

‘Is this a private party or can anybody join?’ Abby asks. ‘Singles unite is it?’

‘Something like that’, I say.

‘Single and childless and happy about it’, Mallory adds.

‘Well, this must be where I belong’, Abby says. ‘Shove over a bit will you?’

‘Abby’, I say, ‘you’re clearly not childless.’

‘Oh, this?’ she asks, looking down and feigning surprise at seeing a big belly. She prods at it, ‘what on earth is this?’ Then she laughs.

Mallory and I exchange worried glances.

‘Calm the farm’, Abby says, sitting down. ‘I’m well aware that I’m pregnant. Boy am I well aware. But in five weeks, touch wood, baby Wallace here will be going home with Anna and Tim.’

‘You’re a surrogate?’ Mallory asks, and I’m glad she does because I was just about to chime in with ‘you’re giving your baby to your sister?’

‘Uh-huh’, Abby says. ‘Am I the best Christmas present giver or what? I figure I don’t need to give them any Christmas or birthday presents for at least ten years after this.’

‘That’s a really nice thing you’re doing Abby’, I say sincerely.

She shrugs. ‘Anna’s my twin.’

Abby never did like talking about serious stuff, so I don’t push it. ‘Well, here we are, the childless singles.’

‘I don’t need a man yet. Maybe when I’m 30, if I can be bothered,’ Mallory says flippantly.

‘I don’t know how to get a man’, Abby admits.

‘I just broke off an engagement with a man.’ It just slips out, and the other two look at me expectantly. 

‘It’s a long story’, I say, ‘and we should probably get back inside. But long story short, we met, we dated, it was great, he was great. Getting engaged seemed like the next step to take, but when I thought about it I just couldn’t handle the thought of being with him for the rest of our lives. Five, ten years, sure. We wanted different things, though, and it was better to break it off now than to wait for the inevitable break-up.

‘Let’s go back inside’, Mallory says, standing up. ‘But I propose we reconvene this meeting of the Dateless and Kidless BSC Alumni before we all head home after Christmas.’

Abby and I agree. 

 

 

There’s something magical about Christmas when there are kids around, I must admit. As much as I don’t want any kids of my own (right now, anyway), thing are a lot more exciting with Liam around. When we all went to bed on Christmas Eve a stocking was left out by the fireplace for Liam, and we said we’d gather round again before breakfast so he (or rather, Janine and Stephen) could open it.

I’m woken by a knock on my door. ‘Merry Christmas Claudia!’

‘Merry Christmas, Dad!’ I call, trying not to sound as if I’ve just woken up. It’s 8am.

‘Come down to the fireplace, Santa’s been!’

‘Be there in a minute’, I call, dragging myself out of bed. I hadn’t thought to bring a dressing gown with me, so I throw a jumper over top of my pyjamas and head downstairs.

‘Look, Claudia’, Janine says, sitting with Liam on her lap. ‘It’s the magic of Christmas, we all got a stocking!’

‘Mom?’ I ask. Janine’s right, there are now four stockings hanging by the fire.

‘Don’t look at me, it was Santa Claus’, she says, and I swear there’s a giggle in there.

‘Well then’, I say, settling on the floor and taking Liam from Janine, who seems thrilled that I’m finally taking an interest in my nephew, ‘let’s see what Santa’s brought us, shall we.’

All pretense of ‘Santa’ is gone with the very first present that comes out of Liam’s stocking, a penny. ‘For wealth’, Mom explains. It’s followed by a tape measure for long life, a bluebird for happiness, a silver moneybox with a heart on it for love, and a tiny ornament of two hands clasped together for family. ‘All things that we want Liam to be blessed with’, Mom says. It’s sweet. Though for now, Liam is more interested than playing with his stocking.

‘You next, Stephen’, Mom says, and hands the next stocking along to Stephen, who’s sitting with Dad on the couch. ‘Now you three have already put a lot into your lives, so your presents are a little different. They’re a bit silly, really, but I think it’s good to be reminded of who we are at Christmas time.’

I’m intrigued to see what Stephen has. His first gift is a test tube, which makes sense as he’s a scientist. He also gets a golf ball, and a packet of liquorice which makes everybody except for me and Liam crack up laughing.

‘I can’t believe you remembered, Rioko’, Stephen says, then explains to me ‘when I was younger I had my parent convinced that the Sunday paper was a dollar more expensive than it really was, so when they sent me down to the dairy I’d buy liquorice as well. It came up in conversation months ago. I’m touched that you’d remember.’

That last part is directed to Mom, who tells him ‘call me Mom, not Rioko’.

‘I think stories are important’, Janine says, and I would have fallen off my chair if I’d been sitting on one. Janine, thinking something other than computers is important? ‘They help keep us connected to each other.’

Stephen also gets some coffee, and a snow-globe ‘so you can keep enjoying your favourite weather when summer rolls around.’

‘You next’, I tell Janine when she looks at me. She doesn’t need much encouragement to dive into her own stocking, pulling out a USB stick. ‘Handy’, she says, without the slightest hint of sarcasm, ‘you can never have too many of these.’

The next thing she pulls out is a flower press. ‘I didn’t know you press flowers’, I say.

‘It’s a new thing’, Janine says, ‘I’ve just been using heavy books at the moment, but this is gorgeous.’

‘What do you do with them when they’re pressed?’ I ask.

‘I put them onto cards’, she says. ‘It’s my new hobby, card-making.’

‘Neat! Maybe we can make some cards together before the holiday is over.’

‘I’d like that’, Janine says, before diving back into her stocking. She pulls out a small atlas.

‘I know you kids have your Google Maps these days, but that’s something to help you plan your overseas travel’ Mom says.

‘You’re travelling?’ I ask. ‘With a baby?’

‘Not for a year or so yet’, Stephen says, ‘but we do plan to do a lot of travelling, yes.’

The next thing Janine pulls out is a locket, which when opened has space for two photos - Mom has already thought to fill the spaces with pictures of Stephen and Liam, ‘your two boys’.

‘Thank you’, Janine says, clutching it to her chest for a moment. ‘I love it’.

‘One more’, Dad calls from the couch. ‘What will it be?’

It’s a bookmark. ‘Oh’, I say, remembering something. ‘Remember when you used to walk us to school? Mary-Anne was so envious of how you could walk and read at the same time. I think she used to go home and practice.’

Janine laughs. ‘Well, multitasking comes in handy all the time. It’s a valuable skill to have. Now, Claud, open your stocking!’

After watching the others open theirs, I’m actually excited to see what my mother has picked out for me. The first gift is a Nancy Drew book, which I take with eyes and mouth wide open. ‘I thought I hid it so well!’

‘You did for a while, I think’, Mom says, ‘but I found one in the lounge one day, and then a few months later I found a different one. I never said anything, but I was so thrilled you were reading something! I worried if I’d tried to encourage you it would have put you off.’

‘I can’t believe you knew’, I say, pulling out my second gift. It’s a pair of earrings that are shaped like candy, but thankfully Mom doesn’t give any indication that she knows I also used to hide candy around my room, she just says that she could imagine me wearing such unique jewellery.

I get sewing machine needles and some beads to use for work. ‘We’re so proud of how you’ve been able to turn your passion into a career,’ Mom says, and Dad adds ‘yes, if you enjoy your job you’ll never work a day in your life!’ which sounds pretty good to me.

The last thing I pull out is a necklace, with a heart shaped pendant. The pendant has a piece of a map enclosed in glass, and when I squint at it I see it’s part of a US map and Connecticut is showing.

‘No matter where in the world you are, there’s always a family in Connecticut who loves you’, Mom says.

‘Oh, Mom, it’s lovely’, I say.

‘Breakfast time then?’ Dad asks, and as I carry baby Liam through to the dining room I smile. For the first time my family _gets_ me, even though I’ve been away for so long. And right now, in this moment, that’s all I need out of life.


End file.
